What's happening?
I see a white light.
Am I dead?
Heaven? Hell?
No.
It's the soft burn of a body still alive.
A warmth wrapping around me like fire itself decided to cradle me.
I feel… good.
Too good.
Then a scream tears through my skull.
"AAAHHHHHHHHH!"
I jolt awake.
Damn it. I thought I saw an angel.
Or maybe a demon. I don't know anymore.
I don't even know how long we've been training.
Days?
Hours?
Centuries?
Distorted seconds?
But my mind… is slipping.
I'm drained. Broken. Detached from myself.
My body is healed, sure.
But my mind is rubble.
I've seen death too many times today—and each time, it had a different face.
I force myself back up.
Aris is still there.
Straight. Ready to die again.
He exhausts me with how solid he is.
Fortuna… she looks like me.
Or rather, she looks like what I've become:
empty, washed-out, colors drained.
And Évra—
that thing shaped like a woman—
still imposing, still smiling.
Her energy is endless.
She's the inhuman one here.
Not us.
"Alright, my little anomalies," she says.
"That's enough for today."
Her voice slices the air.
"I'll show you your dorms. From now on, you're no longer prisoners.
You're my students.
Apprentice warriors.
You deserve a little more… comfort."
Great.
Maybe I'll get to eat real food.
Something with flavor—
Wait, why didn't I use my Word to summon good food?
God, I really was mentally destroyed.
I feel myself reconnecting to reality.
I need to take stock of my situation.
We follow Évra.
All three of us.
Like war dogs too tired to bark.
It's strange.
It's the first time we walk outside the Coliseum without chains, without ropes, without rifles pointed at our backs.
We breathe differently.
Maybe we're learning to be human again.
The ground changes.
The material shifts to a pale clay-metal, soft yet solid.
I don't know what it is—
but it feels like it's watching us.
"Welcome to HQ. Section 03."
Évra's voice becomes solemn—
like an oracle reciting a truth already carved into stone.
"This will be your new home."
The corridors are alive with movement.
Soldiers.
Word-bearers.
Energy crackles everywhere.
Some auras burn, others hiss.
Some… growl.
Figures in reinforced combat armor move along the halls.
Exoskeletons grafted into limbs.
Blades suspended by magnetic fields.
Heavy rifles.
Energy sabers.
Some soldiers smile.
Some ignore us.
But all of them glance at us.
Or rather—
at her.
Évra.
Wild. Vast. Untouchable.
She carries a reputation you feel before you ever hear it.
Then I see him.
A young man in the crowd.
Not trying to be seen—
yet impossible to miss.
He walks slowly.
Straight.
Without arrogance.
Pure silver hair falls in messy strands.
Warm smile.
He greets everyone he meets.
No insignia.
No decorations.
Just a smooth, dark gray uniform.
Probably an apprentice like us.
But he has a sword.
Not a weapon—
a Word made manifest.
I can feel it.
Gold and silver woven together, metal braided with intention.
Attached to his hip by a black strap, like a promise.
It doesn't look sharp.
It is.
His aura is… different.
Sharp.
Stable.
Obvious.
I look away.
Not out of fear—
but because staring at him feels like staring at a forbidden Word.
A Word that would burn a piece of your soul just by being understood.
═════
Section 03 HQ is a living labyrinth.
Everything shifts.
Vertigo hits me hard.
As if space itself rejects me.
It's vast. Too vast.
The architecture wasn't designed for humans.
But for beings far beyond us.
Everything is disproportionate.
Crushing.
Yet eerily harmonious.
There are hallways.
Zones behind those hallways.
Blocks of air and silence shaped by shifting lights.
Floors that change texture beneath our feet.
Everything breathes.
Nothing is alive.
The floor—smooth like frozen water—reflects our steps with inhuman precision.
Each reflection feels more real than the body it mirrors.
The walls are absolute silver.
No flaw. No shadow.
Almost threatening.
Then the holograms.
Floating.
Twisting.
Watching without eyes.
They coil around you like parasitic thoughts.
Data streams, shifting symbols, mental maps.
And Words.
Everywhere.
Inscribed.
Projected.
Almost tangible.
═════
At the center of the chamber, I see a monument.
A map.
But not a normal map.
A colossal hologram.
A living reconstruction of the entire city.
The city pulses—
alive.
You can see the transport lines, the districts, the movement of crowds, the energy anomalies.
It doesn't show.
It feels.
Every pulse corresponds to a real event outside.
It's not a map.
It's an organ.
And we're standing inside its heart.
Soldiers orbit around it—
modifying, observing, predicting.
They don't look at us.
But I feel it.
They know.
They're afraid.
Not of us.
But of what our presence means.
Three new anomalies to monitor.
This isn't a headquarters.
It's a consciousness.
A divine machine wearing the skin of a military base.
And everything here whispers the same warning:
"Nothing belongs to you.
You do not yet have the right to exist here."